Meeting with the Bard
by gomababe
Summary: When Scotland met what was to become his most famous poet/songwriter of pretty much all time. Some creative liberties taken with ther personalities here, just a warning


A/N: The second fic in the trilogy I'm writing for Burn's night on Tuesday. Inspired by reading about Burns' life and what inspired his songs and poems. The fic takes place in 1787, not long after Burns' second edition of his first book was published in Edinburgh.

...

Scotland watched as the various lords and peers chatted amongst themselves. It wasn't often that he decided to join these parties anymore, but it was nice to do so every now and again. Scotland craned his neck, looking for someone. One of the few lords that knew what he was had told him that a young poet that was making quite a stir in the Edinburgh elite was coming along tonight and suggested that the two should meet. Scotland had been a bit dubious about it at first, but had finally agreed, if only to get the man off his back. He huffed a little as he took a sip of his whisky, where was the bloody man?

"Sir Stewart!" A voice called suddenly causing Scotland to turn in its direction. His face split into a smile,

"Ah Lord Cunningham." He greeted, taking the man's hand and shaking it, "So good of you to finally turn up." He quipped before turning to the young man with the lord, "And you must be young Mr Burns." He said. The other man bowed his head a little in respect,

"Good evening Sir Stewart." He greeted formally, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Scotland nodded curtly,

"As it is mine to make yours." He replied, "The Lord Glencairn here has told me that you've been making quite the stir in the literary circles." The young man flushed ever so slightly but somehow maintained a measure of decorum,

"So I have been told." He replied with a quiet laugh, "The Lord Glencairn has been kind enough to introduce me to several people already." Scotland looked to the lord, an amused look on his face,

"Has he now? Well it's nice to know you're being looked after." He noted. Burns smiled, while Lord Cunningham chuckled,

"Come now Angus, this young man is likely to become rather famous in the next year or two if he keeps this up." Scotland glanced at Burns again. As a Nation he had a connection to his people that meant he could recognise an exceptional person when he saw one. He'd felt the connection with Robert the Bruce, William Wallace and many others to this point and when he looked at Burns he could sense the same connection. He knew for a fact that the young man standing in front of him was going to be much more than famous; he was going to be one of the greatest writers in his nation's history. Still, he knew far better than to let on about that sort of thing, so he merely settled for nodding,

"I'm sure he will be." He replied with a smile at the young writer, "Well now Mr Burns, what say you to finding somewhere a little quieter so we can have a decent conversation?" he asked. Burns nodded,

"That would be very nice Sir Stewart." He replied. Scotland chuckled,

"Please lad, I'm not one for formalities like this, just call me Angus." He requested. Burns looked at Lord Cunningham with a raised eyebrow, to which the Lord nodded,

"It's all right lad, Sir Stewart often doesn't like being referred to as such." Burns nodded slowly and looked back to Scotland again,

"Well if you insist." He said with a small smile. Scotland beamed at him as he started to lead the two men out of the room,

"There's a lovely wee inn down the road that we can continue our conversation in, I believe you've already visited it Lord Cunningham? The one just off the Grass Market?" he asked. Lord Cunningham nodded,

"Indeed I have Angus, a wonderful little place. They do a very nice house ale that I would highly recommend to both of you." Burns nodded,

"Well then gentlemen, please lead the way." He motioned to the door and followed after the two noblemen. He looked at Scotland with a curious expression. He could tell there was something about the man that was not quite sitting right with him. He seemed like a nice enough fellow but Burns was not entirely sure why Lord Cunningham wanted them to meet just yet. Scotland sagged a little as they finally made it out of the room,

"I hate those bloody parties, far too formal for my liking." He muttered before turning to smile at Burns, "Forgive the rudeness Mr Burns but when you're recognised as often as I am at these things you tend to become a little jaded." Burns laughed,

"Worry not... Angus, I could tell you were not entirely comfortable in there. It did seem a little too formal for my own liking." He replied. Scotland beamed at him,

"Well then, I can tell we're going to get along very well already." He said happily. The nation slowed a little so that he was walking alongside the writer, "I am fairly curious Mr Burns..." Burns held up a hand to stop him,

"If we are going to dispense with the formalities, then please just call me Robert." He requested. Scotland smiled before continuing,

"Well I am fairly curious, Robert, as to what brings you to Edinburgh in the first place." Burns smiled happily,

"Mr Creech mentioned that there was a market for another set of poems written in Scots here and offered to buy the copyright of 'Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish dialect' from me earlier this year. I simply could not pass up such an opportunity." Scotland nodded,

"Aye, I'd heard about that. It's gained a lot of popularity amongst the people of high society here." He noted. Again Burns flushed ever so slightly,

"I had expected it to be popular, but not quite as popular as this." Scotland chuckled slightly,

"Ye're a very talented man Robert." He said, finally deciding to drop the formal English he had been using in favour of Scots, "I wouldnae be surprised if what Lord Cunningham had said wis correct." Burns looked up to Lord Cunningham, who beamed at them both as they turned into the Grass Market,

"Well you would know Angus." He replied with a small wink, "After all you are a man of some great authority." Once again Burns cast Scotland a curious look while Scotland laughed,

"Oh how I wish." He chuckled, "You know as well as I do that the title I bear is merely a title and that all authority stays in London." The group had finally reached the inn and Scotland held open the door for the other two men, "After you gentlemen." Burns stepped into the inn and looked around with a fond gaze. This was more like it, a quiet bar with a rather lovely young lady standing behind it serving everyone their drinks and a homely atmosphere. Scotland nodded to the girl behind the bar and lead Lord Cunningham and Burns to a table next to the fireplace,

"This is a little more like it eh?" he noted happily, leaning back in his chair, clearly a lot more comfortable than he had been at the party. Burns smiled and nodded,

"Aye, it is." He replied, eyeing up the girl behind the bar. Scotland followed his gaze and laughed,

"A man of fine taste I see." He said, "Sorry tae tell ye this lad, but the lass is already engaged and no' very likely to stray." Burns looked to Scotland, leaning back in his own chair with a smile,

"A man can't just appreciate the natural beauty of a woman? He enquired. Scotland shook his head,

"I ken that look a little too well Robert. Ye remind me an awfie lot of a very good friend of mines. He too likes to," he coughed at this point, "'appreciate the ladies'. Probably a little too much fer his own good." He added with a slight chuckle. Lord Cunningham laughed along with the other two men,

"Well the lad is young yet Angus," he noted, "no doubt that some day one single lady will win his heart forever." Burns smiled at Lord Cunningham as the landlord of the inn bustled over to the table,

"Ah Angus, I see you've brought some guests with you." He noted, "What can I get you fine gentlemen to drink?" he asked, looking first at Lord Cunningham and then at Burns. Scotland turned to the landlord and grinned,

"I'll hae ma usual if you please Andrew." He requested. The man nodded and scribbled the order down, before returning his gaze to the other guests. Lord Cunningham was the first to order,

"A glass of brandy if you please, my good fellow." Again the landlord nodded and looked over to Burns, who thought for a moment,

"I'll have a small glass of whisky, thank you." He finally replied. The man nodded and grinned at the men at the table,

"I'll be along with yer drinks shortly." He told them, leaving the group to continue talking. Scotland turned to Burns once again,

"So Robert, I heard tell that you were originally on yer way to Jamaica..."

...

Several hours later the three men walked out of the bar, all three of them laughing at a joke Burns had just told,

"I suppose I had better head back to the inn I'm staying at. I have a rather long journey back to London tomorrow." Scotland sighed. He honestly did not want to leave Edinburgh, but he knew his brother was probably already complaining about his absence. Burns nodded in sympathy,

"I do hope we get to meet again soon Angus, I would love to hear your opinions on more of my work." Scotland beamed at the young man,

"I hope so too, Robert. Perhaps I may be able to arrange fer you to visit London sometime." Burns beamed right back at the nation,

"That would be wonder, thank you." Lord Cunningham straightened his blazer,

"I had best take my leave and head home. Have a safe journey to London Angus." He said to the red haired man, shaking his hand,

"I will James, thank you again fer introducing me to Robert here." The three men shook hands and went their separate ways into the night.

...

_Present day_

"Will you laddies hurry up already? Everyone's goin' to be here pretty much any minute!" Scotland snapped to his brothers as the three of them plus America finished putting the final touches on the decorations in the hall Scotland had hired for the evening's event. England glared at his brother,

"We're almost done Angus, don't get so upset about it!" he snapped back. Scotland huffed a little but didn't bother replying, instead heading into the kitchen,

"How's it gauin' in here?" he asked. France looked up from poking at the potatoes,

"Everything is under control, the food is fine and _Matheui_ is still getting ready I think." Scotland nodded and smiled at his best friend,

"Ta France, you and Mata have been a great help fer this evenin'."He checked his watch, "i'd better get to the front door afore everyone turns up." He said, adjusting his blazer and sporran and walking the front door of the hall. He grinned as he watched the first cars turn up,

"Here's tae ye Rabbie." He muttered as he prepared to greet the first guests to the annual Burn's Supper.


End file.
